One of the most important lessons I learnt in life happened when I was least expecting it to spring itself upon me.
I sat as part of a large audience, listening to the speaker, who was a charming young man, and speaking a lot of sense. He spoke about drugs, he spoke about sex, he spoke about academics, he spoke about peers and the resultant pressure – all those things that are so important to teenagers, all those things they give so much importance to, but speeches nevertheless, and we forget them faster than we can step out of the hall.
“Don’t give gyaan,” we are saying inside our heads, no matter how much sense it makes. I was gradually switching off because there is only so much that you can and want to absorb and after a point, I decided it was irrelevant to me. I had hardly ever given in to peer pressure, I had my own mind and opinions, I would never touch alcohol and drugs and cigarettes with a 10- foot barge pole and I had particularly strong personal views about pre-marital sex at that point in time. I didn’t need this talk. I was doing fine.
My parents had done a fabulous ethic-and-morals job on me, I would say.
Then the speaker’s voice broke through my reverie. Get up, find a person you have never met or seen or spoken to before. Form pairs – one of you will be blindfolded, the other will take the blindfolded person for a walk around the children’s park next door.
I gulped. Nothing in my wildest dreams would have prepared me for this. Especially not this.
We got up awkwardly, that hall full of about 100 people, and I was found by a bored looking girl. She said an awkward hello and smiled at me and we introduced ourselves. All I knew was I was going to be led around a park, replete with children and adults, who would see the lot of us blindfolded – and my guide’s name was Priya.
I was blindfolded – Priya held my hand and took me for a walk. I felt a bit like a blind dog. It was consoling that there were about 50 pairs of us. I was not the only one looking like a fool.
Lesson no.1. None of us want to look like a fool if we are going to do it alone, no matter what the activity, of learning, of fun, or both.
I groped, stepped very gingerly, afraid of tripping or walking into people and things. After a while, I realised…I did not need to do it. I did not need to try. I needed just to listen to Priya. She kept telling me where there was a stone, some cow dung, a dog running straight at us, she steered me off paths where I would trip or fall, she counted out stairs for me so I could climb without worrying. After a while, I stopped worrying and smiled and let go of that worry – I allowed Priya to lead me, and meanwhile, I decided to do other things.
I heard a child laughing while being given a push on a swing. I smelt the gentle waft of jasmines in the park. I felt a dog run past me, his soft fur touching my feet for a split second. I laughed and giggled.
You know the best part – in less than 10 minutes, I had a friend I completely trusted and all I knew about her was her name. The sound of her voice. How her hand felt in mine. Safe and responsible. How many times have I made a friend who I trusted so completely in a span of 10 minutes?
Lesson no.2. Life can be trusted to take you safely through every path, if you only let it steer the wheel – it can be trusted you know. There is no need to worry. At all.
Some of us call it God.